Summary Continued: You all know Kadaj. He's one of the mains from the ever popular Final Fantasy movie, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children. You know what I want you to do? I want you to forget the Kadaj you saw in that film. Forget him completely. Because here comes a new one, fresh off the oven in my imaginary house, set a top the imaginary hill, taking part in the imaginary world, in my head. The Kadaj featured in this fan-fiction is a teenage tormented soul. To put it in blunt terms, some of you might see him as an Emo (Emo: Short for emotional. A fad taking part in kids these days. I don't know the exact description however, so if you're still puzzled, and yearn to know what it is, simply look it up) . His life is a total mess. Or so he claims. His older brother makes him and his other brothers call him Father. You might know his Father. He goes by the name of Sephiroth and has real long silver hair. Ring a bell? It should. Whoever in this world doesn't have a clue who Sephiroth is, seriously should go on some kind of medication. Anyway, back to the original summary. Kadaj lives with his "Father" of his, along with three other brothers. The first one is Loz. Loz is the athlete of the family. He gets straight A's. He's always throwing the best parties. JENOVA enhanced women swoon over him. Lucky guy. Next is Yazoo. Yazoo has a feminine quality about him, even though he's the funniest, coolest, most awesome brother a guy could have. Sephi-or I mean Father is always calling him a homosexual. The sexuality abuse thrown frequently against Yazoo hurts pretty deep, but he never shows it. The truth is Yazoo IS homosexual, or well, he can be. He says he's bisexual. Then last and least, is Cloud. He barely lives with them. He's always coming and going, and nobody ever has a clue what he does or where he goes. So really there's nothing to say about him. If Kadaj's family wasn't screwed up enough, he has to attend high school, which after his family, is the next thing on his hate list. He hates every class except lunch and sometimes art. It depends. There he can either sleep or draw, so its ok sometimes. He used to like English when they were studying poetry, but then it moved on to something else. Kadaj isn't too happy about that. Along with some other stuff and people, there are plenty of occupants on Kadaj's hate list as well as on his suck worthy life. Hey I have an idea. Let's read on about this tormented lifestyle of his shall we? Tragedy is entertaining. So are mischievous bright green eyed and silver haired high school boys. This is one Final Fantasy teenage drama you won't wanna miss.

And now, finally presenting, after that ridiculously long summary...

Kadaj: Emo Chronicles

A Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Parody Fan-Fiction

By Princess454

Hosted by: Princess Productions (Just kidding. I don't have my own company. Yet...)

♡♡

I rolled out of the beat up mattress I was laying upon on my floor. It was bumpy in certain places, ripped and stabbed and various places, and had a number of splotches in some places as well. It wasn't a prince's four poster bed, but it did for me. I never slept anyway. When I rolled out of it just now, I didn't roll out of it after waking up. I had been staring at my ceiling. But my alarm clock rang. It was time to get ready for hell. Some call it high school. It was a torture chamber, and I don't know why I'm being forced into it. I haven't done harm to anyone. If whoever it was that invented high school wants to fix up my character, then they're thinking the wrong idea. I was an innocent, happy thinking youth before coming into high school. Now all it does is make me want to go out and kill someone. The effects are reversed you see. But I didn't have time to ponder on it. It shouldn't even deserve to be pondered on.

I got up and kicked the mattress aside. I picked up a random playing card next to my foot. I had found it yesterday whilst walking home. Then I had thought it was pretty. Now it was revolting. You see, it was a Queen card, and when I found it, it reminded me of someone. But now that I'm being forced to once again go to this 'high school' I got mad. However, now that I bring this person up, I'm not too mad. Still, I like to rip things. I ripped the card in half. Seconds later I was sad I did. I sniffed and a warm tear ran down my cheek. I carefully held the now two pieced playing card in my hands, like I was holding an injured little bird. I placed it gently on the only other furniture in my room, a scratched and old dresser. I would tend to it later.

The heavy stomping of boots told me I should get to breakfast before I got my ass kicked. And when that happened it hurt. More then on the outside. You see, my Father is abusive. He only has eyes for Mother and my other brother Loz. My other brother, Yazoo, has fallen to his abusive ways as well. But it was a different way then mine. I won't explain now. When I get into that I tend to cry. I don't wanna cry infront of Father. He'll call me a sensitive fag again.

♡♡

I pushed one of the chairs back, making a loud disturbing sound. It didn't harm anyone. Nobody was in here except for Mother. Then again, she's always in the dining room. A few months ago Father took her out of her special room for Thanksgiving, and placed her on the table. Something went wrong so now she's extra fragile. We're all scared to move her incase she falls apart. So here she resides.

"Good morning Mother," I greeted quietly. I liked Mother. She was quiet like me. Even though her love was silent, I knew it was there. I didn't expect an answer of course so I went ahead and sat down, glaring at the box of cereal. That wasn't my usual cereal. This one was some disgusting kind with natural fruits. Who in their right mind would eat that.

"Father bought it and threw out all the other cereal. He says the family is going on an official diet," Yazoo suddenly explained, entering the room. My sore and bloodshot eyes traveled from the tabletop to him, in a rare motion in my part. I usually kept my eyes down.

Yazoo was wearing grey cashmere pajama bottoms, and nothing else. His topless upper body was the attractive kind of pale, while my skin was the sickly kind. Yazoo eats nothing but fruit so that might be why, but I'm no doctor. His long silver hair was perfectly combed, even though he had just woken up. He can look good in all situations. I think he knows this because he is almost never depressed. He walked forward into the kitchen, towards the fruit basket and picked out a banana. His cashmere pajama pants made a soft swishing noise. I've actually tried them on once, because I was sick of hearing rich people always talk highly about cashmere, so I was curious. It was a deadly soft sensation that I hope to never feel again. He however really likes them. I think his girlfriend from France sent it to him. Yazoo has a total of five girlfriends at the moment, and I've lost count on how many boyfriends he has. Yes, he's bisexual, and I think it's the coolest thing ever. Everything about Yazoo was cool. Two of those girlfriends are out of state, one is altogether out of this country, and two actually go to the same high school we do. I wonder how he pulls it off. Actually, I don't really mind if I do know or not know, because I wouldn't have any use of that information. I don't really want any girlfriends. Don't get me wrong, I'm not like that, I'm into girls alright. I just don't like them. They're boring and annoying. Plus the fact that they're all the same. They're always complaining on why guys don't like them, and this and that. They think its because of their weight, their hair, something else ridiculous like that. I'm into originality. But I think the other boys give the wrong message. Then again, I hate them too. I don't like my school that much, their educational system, as well as the inhabitants.

On the whole 'wondering how Yazoo pulls the girlfriend thing off' I also don't mind that I don't know because it just adds another mysterious layer to Yazoo. Mystery is cool. Therefore Yazoo is even more cool for having it. Yazoo's sexuality is a touchy subject in my family because its very well hidden and secret. That lucky bastard, how mysterious can he get? He's already cool. I wish I had some mystery to me, but somehow, no matter how hard I try, everyone can tell right away how I'm like. I guess I'm too obvious. Anyway, sometimes I feel bad for Yazoo because Father would literally kill him if he found out. Worse Yazoo is more on the homo side then the straight side. I think this because he always describes some of his boyfriends elaborately, and with passion. However he doesn't really mind his girlfriends. He treats them very well for a guy who doesn't care for them. He loves women, but to him they're like pets. He'll leave them outside until he wants them, then let them back in. It all depends on how he's feeling, and how the girl is. The bad thing about Yazoo is that he can easily get bored, and since he only uses girls for entertainment, then that's how we get on the whole Yazoo girlfriend committee thing. I think there's enough of them to start a committee anyway.

Now that I think about it, there's a lot of mystery to my brothers. More then there should be. I'm the only one without mystery, so I don't count. I'll get to Loz and Cloud later. Since Yazoo is here and all, he's the main subject. I love talking about Yazoo. He's my role model. He's the one brother I'll do anything for. He's that cool. But all this brotherly love turns to hate faster than anything. Sometimes I'll just hate him for no reason, just so I can hate him. I hate loving him. That's what mostly gets me pissed off.

"Father knew you'd get mad over the cereal." Yazoo broke in to my thoughts. I blinked. The cereal. Father threw out my cereal. I started to cry silently.

"That was my favorite cereal...did he even ASK me if I wanted to go on some stupid diet?" I snapped. Not that I even needed it. I'm sickly skinny. I barely eat.

Yazoo shrugged. "You know how he is. He's the boss. Don't let him get you down, ok?" Yazoo trooped out of the room, tossing his banana peel squarely into the trash over his shoulder. He wasn't even looking. I hate him.

Plus, he should talk. He acts like he knows all about Father and they're best buddies. Any day I could go up to Father and tell him all of Yazoo's love secrets. Then again, nobody would believe me, but I still could. Then again I don't want to move again. I sort of liked this town. I'll get into why I like it later. You see, when Father gets really mad, he can sometimes go crazy. He goes crazy mostly when we break his rules. Once again I feel bad for Yazoo, and would feel worse if I ever did spill his secret. Dating was a touchy subject with Father. He didn't approve. As far as he was concerned, we were all going to school and getting good grades, and ignoring the opposite sex completely. He was so wrong I sometimes laughed when thinking about it. He solemnly states that we should hold no room in our hearts for no other female than Mother. After finding out about an old girlfriend of Loz's back in our last town, he ended up setting our house on fire. See what I mean? I have to live with this crazy man. I don't even wanna talk about what he did to Cloud's old girlfriend too. Actually, to both of Cloud's old girlfriends. I feel sorry for both of them. At least one's still alive. Oops. I didn't say anything. Anyway, I have nightmares sometimes, just imagining what he'd do if he ever caught Yazoo. But Yazoo was always careful. Maybe I shouldn't blackmail him after all. Loz wasn't as careful and deserved what happened last time. Yet he still continues having a little committee of girls himself. I hate him too.

♡♡

I ended up not having breakfast. It wasn't a big deal. The only person I spoke too today was Yazoo and Mother. Cloud was gone as usual, Loz always wakes up late, and Father was gone. Don't ask me where Cloud or Father go, they never talk about it. Cloud never talks period. He's more mysterious then Yazoo. I wonder how everyone can pull that off and I can't. It seriously got me mad.

I have to take the bus to school. I hate it. I hated the sight and everyone in it. I was the only high schooler who actually took this god damn yellow bus. I always had to sit next to snotty kids eating crayons and their own homework. I got in trouble once when I couldn't take it one day and actually threatened this kid. Big deal, I said I'd kill him if he ever poked me again. It's not like I was actually going to do it...

I wasn't paying attention when the bus came. I was sitting on the ground, reading a really good book. It was mostly about death, but there was some love in it too. I kinda skipped that chapter though. Anyway, the bus pulled away and drove on without me. This has happened before. When I finally looked up from my reading and checked my watch I was late. I had to walk to school and would be even more late. At least I got to skip algebra. However, I was still miserable. The cereal, now the bus. Today wasn't going to be fun. I could already tell.

♡♡

When I came to the front of my school, I surprisingly saw Loz there, leaning against a wall smoking a cigarette. I wish I could smoke. I wish I was cool like Yazoo and Loz. Actually, I wish I had never been born, but I usually think about that later.

"Little bro. Took you long enough," Loz slurred when I approached him. Not only was he smoking but he was totally baked. Stoned. I wondered why he was like this so early in the day. You see, Loz is the athlete. He's been in every team of every sport some time or other. But due to his strong build, he prefers and majors in football. He's one of the star players. He gets the girls due to that. His buddies and him are stoners though. But if I were Loz, I'd be doing the same thing. Father stresses him a lot to get good grades and win games. The lucky bastard does both.

"Why are you here?" I wondered menacingly. He was making me even more late. Not that I cared. Not that anyone cared.

"I lied to get out here and have a quick smoke. Someone told me you weren't on the bus either, so I decided to wait up for ya, and make sure you were ok." He took a long drag on his cigarette then flicked it away. He blew the smoke in my face, making my eyes burn more then they usually do.

"Do not babysit me." I glared at him once the smoke cleared, then slouched inside. I hated having people worry about me. I didn't like people feeling sorry for me either. When I went inside my English class, nobody even noticed me come in. Well, except for one person. But I'll get to her later.

When the bell rang my teacher asked me to come up to the desk. I didn't want too and I was tempted to just walk off and pretend I didn't hear her. But I decided too anyway, not wanting to get detention. Today was going wrong enough.

"You were late. Where were you?" She asked sternly, in a fake motherly voice. Why should I tell you? You don't care, remember? I thought miserably.

"I missed my bus. I walked to school." I swiped away at my bangs, trying to see how she was reacting. My bangs were always in my eyes, but I liked it that way. That way, nobody could see my bloodshot eyes from not sleeping, and how they were red around the edges from crying.

"You have brother that's a Junior, and a brother that's a Senior, and one whose long since left school. There's also your father. And your mother? Look how many people could have given you a ride to school," She said shaking her head. "Didn't you think of that?"

Hadn't she realized that maybe I would've thought about that, IF I didn't already know they couldn't get me a ride? Geez, woman.

"Both my brothers Yazoo and Loz wouldn't be able to give me a ride. My father is out, my Mother doesn't drive, and my oldest brother is gone away in college across the country," I lied. Well, mostly lied. "I have to go." Before she could say anything I left that horrid room. Whenever teachers wanted to talk to me, I always ended up at my stupid counselor's office. That crack head doesn't understand me at all. And he never will either.

I barely use my locker because I keep no books or binders. But today, I realized I forgot my jacket in there, and I wanted to wear it. I wear the same clothes everyday, but I do wash them. When people prod enough on why I don't wear different clothes, I usually end up telling them my house got burned to the ground, along with everything else I owned. That was partially the truth anyway.

When I opened my locker a letter fell out. My heart jumped. I don't get socially contacted very often. I hoped it wasn't a beat up letter, announcing the time and place where some loser Seniors were going to beat me up. That hasn't happened in a month though.

When I opened the letter, I found that it was written in the unique style of a girl's hand. Small and unreadable. Damn it, I thought as I struggled to make out what was written. Suddenly I got shoved against my locker.

"Loser's got a love letter!" A voice sneered. I turned around to find three guys. They usually mocked me sometimes. I don't know why. I don't know them or have ever spoken to them. Someone told me once that they were rivals of Loz, so they were getting revenge by making fun of me. I don't really know or care. I waited until they went away.

"Lemme read it, freak," Another one demanded, reaching for the letter. I gripped it tightly and wouldn't in a chance in hell let him have it.

"Watch out Johnny! His mommy might come over here and get mad at you!" The first one sneered. They laughed.

"Is mommy gonna come and save you, momma's boy?" One asked. "Don't cry now." They shoved me again but finally left. Bastards. I quickly returned to the letter, ignoring that whole interruption. I was often ridiculed over Mother. However, I didn't pay any mind to it.

All I could make out of the letter was that she wanted to find out why I was late and if I wanted to talk. She planned on meeting me somewhere after school. I crushed the letter in my hands and hid it in my pocket. Unfortunately, I had no intention to talk about anything to anyone. And I wasn't meeting her after school.

♡♡

School was finally over with. I don't always go straight home. When I left class, I left quickly so nobody would stop me. I ran over to the nearest 7 Eleven and pulled out some change from my back pocket. I bought a candy bar, starved. I walked outside, peeling the wrapper gently, and savoring the taste. I thought about going to the book store. I walked there but didn't go in. I didn't feel like reading. I felt like writing. From inside my jacket pocket, I pulled out my small notebook. I write notes on future poems I should write. I spotted the note from yesterday, noting the playing card. It was ripped in two on top of my dresser. I ran home and instantly locked myself in my room. I started my poem, on the playing card. I didn't touch it or bother with it yet though. I can't make up my mind whether I hate it or like it. It's kinda like how I feel about someone...but I'll get to that later.

I was forced to come to dinner hours later. I saw Loz, already stuffing his face when I came in. Getting stoned a lot gives you a big appetite I suppose. I saw Yazoo gracefully eat his food, bit by bit, biding his time. He was elegant in everything he did. Father was talking to Mother while eating, and apparently he ignored the buzzing that came from her. When I sat down I saw that the buzzing was because there were all these flies flying around her. I wished to fan them away but Father was busy with Mother at the moment. I couldn't eat partly because I wasn't hungry and partly because Mother was starting to smell bad again. Nobody ever noticed.

Suddenly, Father turned to me, and I almost fell out of my seat. I hate it when he does that.

"You were late today. Why?" He demanded angrily, stabbing a chicken leg. I gulped.

"I missed my bus."

"Again? How hard is it to stand at a corner, wait, and get on a bus when it pulls over? Tell me. Is it that hard?" Father growled. I looked down at my untouched place miserably.

"Don't tell me you were writing your stupid poetry. Or reading your depressing books."

"My poetry isn't stupid! And I like reading those books!"

"Please, they aren't educational in the least. They're just turning you into some dark animal. You never eat, you never talk, all you do is lock yourself up all day in your room the minute you get home. You blast that stupid loud music. Do you think the rest of us LIKE listening to some tattooed punks scream about killing themselves?" Father continued. I tried to keep calm. I hated it so much when he put the spotlight on me like this. I could feel everyone watching me. I didn't argue with him, because it was pointless. Father never listened and he always had to have his way. He didn't understand me either. Nobody did.

"And another thing. Your grades are slipping. I think-," Father started yet again, when suddenly the door slammed open. We all looked up to see who it was.

Cloud came in, his boots making heavy step sounds on the floor. His gaze glared over us all and he silently took a seat.

"And you," Father started in on Cloud, "Where were YOU Mister?"

"Out."

"Doing what?"

"Stuff."

"And what are you doing now? You think you can just waltz in here and eat dinner with us like that?" Father wondered angrily. He was really on edge today. Actually, he always was.

As for Cloud, he merely picked up his plate and left for his room. There was a moment of silence. I didn't understand Cloud. Yet I wished I had his guts. You had to be truly insane to just ignore Father like that and walk out of the room while he was still talking. Cloud had mystery, and he had guts.

The silence was broken as a squashing sound could be heard. Mother's arm fell off again.

♡♡

I lay against the wall in my room, listening to my loud suicidal music. I was staring at the playing card, the Queen elegant in her bright robes. I added some stuff to my poem. I sub consciously fingered the letter in my pocket. I wondered if she was mad at me for not meeting her after school. I wondered how I would face her tomorrow. Hopefully she would be mad, and not worried. I hated it when girls got worried and all motherly. It just made you feel like a child. But then again, I wouldn't have much in experience in that, now would I.

Things will change tomorrow.